


the world is not a wish-granting factory

by explodingsnapple



Series: Cheers to the 99th Precinct! [8]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Comfort/Angst, Episode: s06e12 Casecation, F/M, from Amy's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18453008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explodingsnapple/pseuds/explodingsnapple
Summary: It’s just that she really doesn’t want to let go of this dream of hers, but the longer she holds on to it, the more intense it will be, and the more she will resent herself and Jake and the life that they have if it never comes true.(Pre- and Post-6x12, from Amy's perspective)





	the world is not a wish-granting factory

Amy’s seventeen years old and in a heated argument with her parents over college applications. They want her to major in something “useful,” like engineering or political science. With her outstanding GPA, plethora of AP classes, and stellar test scores, getting into such competitive majors wouldn’t be a problem for her, so her parents don’t (or won’t) understand why she’s applying for Art History instead.

“You’re just worried about how you spent the past three years bragging about how amazing your daughter is to your stupid friends, and now you’re trying to figure out how to tell them that I won’t be premed or prelaw like they’re all expecting me to be,” Amy hisses.

“Don’t be ridiculous, _mija_ , we’re not expecting you to be a doctor; we know you eventually want to join the police force. But it’s good to have a back up plan with _actual_ job prospects just in case,” her father implores.

“Plus, we mostly just talk about your brother,” her mom says, fondly. “This isn’t about the neighbors at all; we just want what’s best for you.”

Amy opens her mouth to yell again, but David (who was asked by her parents to be present for this conversation for reasons she has yet to discover) steps in first, saying, “You know, Amy, our parents do have a point. For example, I’m majoring in criminal justice, which will give me an excellent foundation for a career in law enforcement, but also for law in general, as well as the skills I will need when I become police captain. Of course, you probably won’t make it that far in the force, but you should still use your college education wisely.”

To Amy’s disgust, her parents beam at her brother’s words. “What do you mean, ‘I won’t get that far’?” Amy asks, her eyes flashing.

David simply laughs. “You do want children, don’t you?” he asks.

The question catches her off-guard. She’s loved them for as long as she can remember, and she did spend the last summer babysitting her oldest brother’s twin toddlers ten hours a day for two weeks. It was one of the most difficult and stressful things she ever had to do, but the thought of doing it again only made her feel warm and happy inside.

“I mean, yeah. But that’s still a long way off,” she says, finally.

“I’m just saying. Pregnancy and raising a kid isn’t really conducive to the lifestyle of policemen, especially at higher ranks with more responsibilities. It will be incredibly hard to have both a family and a career.”

“Yeah, well? I’m going to major in what I’m passionate about, become the youngest female police captain in NYPD history, _and_ start a family before you even have a _chance_ ,” Amy retorts, turning and stomping up the stairs. Once she’s in her room, she takes out her life calendar and pencils in “start planning for kids” six months after she takes the sergeant’s exam.

 

* * *

 

Amy’s in college and her philosophy professor assigns them a one-page paper where they have to describe who or what they work so hard for; professional aspirations don’t count.

Amy chews on the tip of her pen before writing, “I want to set a good example for the next generation, including my own children. I want to make sure that they know they have the ability to change the world.”

 

* * *

 

Amy’s been a detective for a few years now and she can count the number of times she got six or more hours of sleep in the past six months on one hand. It’s her dream job, but it’s so, so exhausting.

She’s been with Jake for about a year now. They’ve talked about moving in together (although it has yet to happen), and she sees a future with him. She’d be lying if she said she hasn’t daydreamed about a wedding in a library, Jake waiting for her at the altar, or tiny children with Jake’s smile and her hair running around the park. However, she’s still unsure. There hasn’t been one full week where Terry, the one cop she knows who has a leadership position in the squad and young kids, hasn’t called Sharon apologizing for not being able to pick up the twins or for coming home late – and Sharon isn’t even a cop. Amy’s not entirely convinced that she and Jake would be able to handle the responsibility, especially with her career aspirations.

One day, while she’s waiting in the hospital for yet another one of her nieces to be born, she remembers David’s words from long-ago, and can’t help but think he was correct. The demands of policework are difficult enough on their own, without adding the responsibility of kids on top of it. How on earth did her parents manage it?

When she asked her dad, though, his answer was somewhat surprising. “We waited until I was a lieutenant. Higher levels mean a lot more work, but the hours themselves get easier because a lot of your additional duties are administrative. If you plan well, it shouldn’t be a problem to manage,” he tells her.

Maybe, just maybe, it is possible, after all.

 

* * *

 

Amy’s sitting in bed doing the crossword puzzle, Jake’s arm loosely draped across her legs as he tries to fall asleep next to her – _tries_ being the operative word here, because he’s spent the past half-hour just staring at her with one eye, the other half of his face buried in the pillow. Everytime she looks over at him, he quickly pretends to be asleep; it might be the cutest thing Amy’s ever seen him do.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots the card Cagney and Lacey made them on his dresser. Although serving cake for dinner and letting them play with the windows were not exactly representative of great parental skills, just being around the kids and shaping their minds made her feel satisfied and joyous in a very different way from what her job provided, and she badly wants that experience again.

She brushes the hair out Jake’s face to get his attention. “Hey, babe?” she asks.

“Mm, yeah?” comes the slightly muffled response. Jake groans and rolls onto his side. “What’s up?” he asks again.

“Do you see us doing that again in the future?” she asks, nodding at the card.

“What, babysitting? Sure. It was pretty fun,” Jake says, before closing his eyes.

Amy tries again. “No, I mean like the whole thing. Like, raising them,” she says.

When she looks at her boyfriend, she realizes he’s fast asleep, for real this time.

 

* * *

 

Amy’s now engaged, and the giddy feeling she gets whenever she sees the ring on her finger has yet to wear off.

She’s admiring the way the light reflects off of the small diamond when a red circle around today’s date on her life calendar catches her eye. In small writing, it says, “start planning for kids.”

 _Shit_. They’re getting married soon, and they haven’t even discussed anything regarding a family.

She looks at her snoring boyfriend – fiancé, she reminds herself with a grin – next to her, and wonders if he would want children. Almost like a movie, her mind replays memories of him babysitting Nikolaj, their escapades with Cagney and Lacey, the day he tried to teach her two-year-old nephew how to make pancakes. He would make a wonderful father, that’s for certain.

The results of her sergeant’s exam haven’t been released yet, but she’s almost certain she would pass. Would they be able to handle the responsibility of parenting on top of their high-demand jobs? Amy wants to believe that they can, especially if they wait until after she becomes lieutenant before trying.

She makes a mental note to actually ask Jake about it later, but it slips out of her memory when his parents invite them over for Thanksgiving and insist she bring her family as well. By the time that entire fiasco blows over, she’s fully into wedding-prep, and the question of making sure her partner actually wants children has completely left her mind.

 

* * *

 

Amy’s getting married in one month, which means it’s time to get rid of the “Three Months to Go” binder and prepare the “Month Of” binder. When the new binder is finished, she reaches for her phone to take a picture of it to send to her family chat and sees a New Text notification from her brother. An image of her grinning nephew, Matthew, comes up. Amy smiles back at the picture. She can’t wait for the day she gets to go to the waterpark with a child of her own.

She walks into the bathroom where Jake is brushing his teeth, and shows him the text. “We should do this someday,” she says, and he grins. Through a mouthful of toothpaste, he replies, “Are you kidding me? Of course! I’ll start saving right away.”

Amy walks away with a smile on her lips and happiness in her heart. She can’t _wait_ to be married.

 

* * *

 

Amy has been scheduled for six double-shifts a week for the past month, so of _course_ her yearly visit to the doctor _has_ to be scheduled on the one evening both she and Jake have off. The receptionist who answered when she called to reschedule refused her request, saying the clinic was over-booked as it is, which is why she finds herself at the doctor’s office at 5:00 pm instead of at home with her husband.

Amy’s sour mood doesn’t improve when the doctor tells her that she needs a pap-smear this year. As she sits up afterwards, something occurs to her. “Dr. Sanchez? When’s the latest I could possibly get pregnant?” Amy asks.

The doctor looks up. “It does become harder after the age of 35, and is difficult after 40, but certainly not impossible,” she replies. “You’re just about 36, though, so you have a little bit of time, don’t panic yet,” she adds, seeing the crestfallen look on Amy’s face.

 

* * *

 

Amy’s celebrating her anniversary in Paris (well, a hospital room decorated like Paris), and she should be happy, even over-the-moon. But she isn’t.

It’s also worth pointing out that she’s been “out of it” and unable to concentrate all day, so she’s ridiculously behind on, well, everything. Despite Jake and Holt’s assurances that spending the night in the hospital isn’t doing the precinct any harm, she’s still anxious about the amount of work she still has to do. And, as she finds out over the course of the night, her jitteriness is affecting her ability to make logical, reasonable decisions.

It all starts when Jake tells her that he didn’t want children, that he never even considered them. The suddenness, but also the lateness, of this completely throws her off. She simultaneously feels guilty for never getting around to talking to him about it, mad at him for not talking to her, and like she’s been hit by a giant sack of bricks.

Her brain spins into overdrive, struggling to make sense of this new reality. Despite knowing that it’s a terrible idea, she suggests that they hold a debate, because regardless of who wins, hearing each other’s opinions could help them reach a resolution that they’re both okay with. The debate is also a coping mechanism in her part – she doesn’t know how to fix the situation, how they can reach a compromise on a yes-or-no question, and the anxiety of it is enough to send her into a spiral; however, the debate is something she can control, something with rules and regulations and a moderator who will dole out points based on logic and facts instead of emotion and feelings.

She wins, but Jake looks so uncomfortable that she feels awful over what she did. Part of her knows that Jake now has to listen to her, that he has to agree with her, that they can start a family. That same part of her rejoices at the idea, but overall, her conscience is disgusted.

That’s when he drops the question: what would she have done if he had won? Honestly, she has no idea, and out of desperation, she tries (and fails) to bring the tone back to their usual joking banter. Instead of smiling, he calls her “cold-blooded,” and she’s done. She needs to get out of this conversation, and fast.

Amy’s grasping at straws now, trying to find something she can hold on to. She tries telling him that she’s scared too, but that doesn’t make her apprehensive or  _against_ the idea. He says that he may change his mind later, and the gloominess in the room seems to dissipate, just a little bit. The calm before the storm.

And then the other shoe drops.

Jake’s request is simple enough: he needs time to evaluate himself and his abilities, he needs time in therapy, he needs time to feel ready to say yes to children, especially since he’s said no all his life. His request is simple enough, but Amy hesitates.

Her doctor’s words from just a few days ago are ringing in her ears:  _it does become harder after 35. You’re 36._ Time is not a luxury that she has, and they’re both near tears when she tells him so. She needs to know now.

Jake’s right, though. They are young enough that they still have a few years’ time, provided, of course, that Amy’s body is in the mood to cooperate. However, she doesn’t even want to think about waiting indefinitely for an answer, only to hear “no” when it’s too late to do anything about it. Even then, what _would_ she do about it? Is there anything she _can_ do? It’s not like she can force him to have children with her. _There is one thing that you can do_ , a tiny, intrusive voice in her mind says. She knows what that is – but it’s not something she’ll ever consider. It’s just that she really doesn’t want to let go of this dream of hers, but the longer she holds on to it, the more intense it will be, and the more she will resent herself and Jake and the life that they have if it never comes true.

All of these thoughts are created over the span of two seconds, and they’re flying around her head like bees trapped in a box, struggling to escape, but her brain hasn’t come up with the words to do so properly. Jake looks at her expectantly, and the next thing she knows, the first thing she says is, “I don’t want to start over at 38.”

Immediately, she wants to turn back time and stuff the words back into her mouth. Not only did that tiny voice somehow make it to the forefront of literally everything else spinning around her mind, but it’s also so completely against what she was actually trying to say.  

“Start over? Like, with someone else?”

Amy’s heart sinks. She wants to reach out and tell him that starting over with someone else is not an option. That she misspoke and said the wrong thing and it was an accident and that she didn’t mean it, she didn’t mean any of it at all.

Instead, before she can even open her mouth, they’re interrupted. Amy has never wanted to punch a two-hundred-pound sergeant and a knife-wielding detective so much in her entire life.

That being said, the last thing she wants is for them to fight again (well, more than they already have), so when the opportunity arises, she leaves with Rosa.

 

* * *

 

Amy’s not only taken aback when Rosa chooses her side, but even more so when Rosa offers to talk to Jake for her. Something about sending an “excellent bully” after her husband doesn’t sit right with Amy, so she brushes it off. Besides, if Jake’s only real reason for why he doesn’t want children is fear, Terry’s the best person to show him the good side of fatherhood as well.

After she says this, Rosa looks at her inquisitively. “Wait, is what Terry said true? Did you guys really not talk about children before committing your lives to each other? Santiago, even I know that’s incredibly irresponsible, and I’ve never owned a binder in my entire life.”

Amy sighs. “Well, I _thought_ we did, but he thought I just wanted to go to a waterpark. But you’re right. It doesn’t count as a proper conversation.” She twirls her hair around her finger nervously. “I don’t know. I was just so preoccupied with him in jail, and then wedding prep almost immediately after, that I didn’t really think about the tough questions.”

“Well, look how well that turned out for you,” Rosa says sarcastically. “In all seriousness, though, how are you guys going to fix this? You both seem pretty dead-set in your wishes: he wants a waterpark, you want kids.”

Inwardly, Amy groans, thinking, _if Terry can’t convince him, then I don’t know_. She purses her lips, and says out loud, “And the crazy part is, I really do want to go to the waterpark, but I can’t give that to him, because it’s the only card I hold.”

Suddenly, a suspicious man gets off the elevator, and in a matter of seconds, the two women have him handcuffed and against the floor. _Good_ , Amy thinks. _This is over, and we can go home_.

To her surprise, though, Terry walks up to them alone. “Where’s Jake?” Amy asks, confused. Terry mumbles something about Jake thinking the man they now have in custody was a ploy, and Amy glares at him. Terry immediately goes off to figure out what’s up.

He comes back agitated, his face pale. Amy and Rosa exchange a look, and Amy involuntarily grips her arm. “Jake’s in there; that patient next door to Rojas’s room has a bomb and she’s threatening to diffuse it,” Terry says.

“What do you mean? Go to him!” Amy hisses, every nerve in her body trying to stop her from screaming.

“Ames, we can’t, and you know that,” Rosa says. “If we burst in there with backup right now, it would be disastrous.” Amy is well aware of the fact, but that doesn’t mean she agrees with it. She watches angrily as Terry evacuates the floor and calls ESU and the Bomb Squad, then runs into a now-empty on-call room.

This certainly isn’t the first time Amy has been suddenly separated from Jake, not knowing if he was safe. But this is the first time it has happened after their wedding, and the first time it has happened while they still have things to talk about (his first undercover stint doesn’t count; they weren’t dating then).

Amy sinks to the floor, her back against a cot and her knees drawn to her chest, and Rosa slides down next to her. “If he doesn’t make it,” Amy murmurs, “I’ll never get to make up with him. He’s going to die thinking I want a divorce.” Her eyes smart with tears, and she stares straight ahead so the other woman doesn't notice.

Rosa awkwardly wraps an arm around her, and Amy leans into her shoulder. “He’s going to make it. He’s survived a lot without so much as a scratch. When he comes out, you guys can take a week off, go to the waterpark, and celebrate your anniversary properly.”

Amy looks up at her, confused. “I thought you–”

Rosa nods, cutting her off. “I still think you should have kids if you want them, but you can’t convince him to do anything he’s not ready for. While he may change his mind, it’s not up to you to decide that for him.” Rosa’s eyes bear into hers. “You guys need a break, and you need time to talk about this properly. The absolutely worst thing you can do right now is continue to hold cards against him for stupid reasons.”

According to the clock on the wall in front of her, fifteen minutes have passed, and Jake’s still inside. Panic blossoms in her chest. There are so many things she needs to say, things she needs to apologize for. He can’t die. He has to make it out, he _has_ to. She’s shaking now, partially because they happen to be sitting on a vent, but mostly because she’s terrified of losing him.

She can live without him; she’s done it before. But she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t _ever_ want to.

 

* * *

 

Amy can’t stop pacing around the small room as they wait for news. Luckily, Rosa’s radio crackles to life a few minutes later when the leader of the Bomb Squad calls in. They both listen with bated breath as he prattles on about how the bomb was defused safely and how they’ve slowly been letting patients back onto the floor. Almost an eternity later, he finally says, “The patient handling the bomb is medically ok, besides her twisted bowel, and she’s now in custody. Oh yeah! Detective Peralta is safe, too.”

Amy’s heart clenches and she pushes past Rosa and runs into the hallway. Someone yells at her to slow down, but she can’t – it’s like an invisible magnet is forcing her forward. She needs to see him _now_ , or she may spontaneously combust.

There have been only two instances where she’s felt like this: the hostage situation their first Christmas together, and the first time she visited him in prison. Both times, it took her every ounce of willpower to stop herself from kissing him senseless. Now, though, all she wants to do is wrap him in a bone-crushing hug and never let go. When she turns the corner of the Nurse’s Station and sees him, that’s exactly what she does.

 

* * *

 

Amy can’t help but stall as the detective part of her brain takes over and asks questions about Pam and the bomb. It’s worth it, though, when Jake makes a “your butt is the bomb” joke.

She starts with the easy news first, and laughs when his eyes light up at the notion of spending a week at the waterpark. She’s about to continue, when he interrupts her.

Apparently, the grace with which he handled the bomb situation convinced him that he would be able to handle the scariness of fatherhood. Amy’s not entirely convinced – this is something they will have to revisit a few times before, she thinks, he will (or will not) be 100% ready. But he’s _considering_ the idea, and that itself is enough for her. And this time around, when he asks her to wait a little bit, she more than willingly agrees.

 

* * *

 

Amy’s sitting cross-legged on their bed holding a set of cards, and Jake sits opposite her, trying (and failing) to learn the finer points of rummy. They finally decide it’s a lost-cause when she wins the fifth game in a row.

As she packs up the cards, something occurs to her that makes her heart sink. “Hey babe?” she asks.

“Yeah?”

“You know earlier, when I said stuff earlier about starting over…the words just came out wrong, right?” she asks, reaching across the bed to intertwine her fingers with his. “I just wanted to make sure that this is something you do want for reasons besides a perceived ultimatum. Even if it takes longer than the time that I have, there are options for fertility treatments or to adopt or foster. And even if you change your mind later, I’m still going to be here.”

Jake relaxes slightly and squeezes her hand. “I guessed that you didn’t mean it. Don’t worry, the decision had nothing to do with what you said.” He pauses, then says, “but like I said earlier, I’m not ready yet. It may take some time. I hope you’re alright with that.”

Amy cuts him off with a kiss. She’s spending the rest of her life with her soulmate; she’ll wait as long as it takes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a TFIOS quote. The "She can live without him, but she doesn't want to" line is straight from a grey's anatomy episode.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'm on tumblr as exploding-snapple if you want to talk/send prompts/etc


End file.
